The sleeping situation in our itty bitty house has been a bit of fruit basket-upset over the last 6 months. Currently Asher is sleeping in his crib in Sydney’s room, her bed is empty, and she is sleeping on the bottom bunk in “the boys” room, which we still call Carson’s room. This leads to all kinds of confusing titles as “your room” and “your bed” are not straightforward, especially for the younger two. But Ashman is a pretty noisy sleeper (and waker), so we need him to sleep alone, but definitely also need him confined to a lovely crib, as he’s a bit of a flight risk. The bunk bed sitch has been good for the big sibs I think. It’s some forced bonding. Instead of a nightlight, we strung an bunch of colored Christmas lights around the room, and it gives it a very cheery glow that they both love.
For some reason, a few nights ago, Sydney was unusually teary and scared to go to sleep. (Unrelated and prior to any national news that might make children teary and scared.) I was trying to calm her with my wise mommy moves, telling her that a)her big brother is 2 feet away, b)her parents are in the next room and c) God will never leave her, and he is stronger than Carson AND Daddy. I got very spiritual and told her God knows just what is scaring her and how to help her feel calm. I told her that God knows everything about her, including how many red hairs are on that head. I started to look around the room, and I said God knows exactly how many Christmas lights are in this room, thinking that would really impress her.
Then, from the previously silent top bunk, a deep little voice says “Uh, even I know that: two hundred. One hundred in each box.” He didn’t actually vocalize the “DUH” but it was strongly inferred by his tone of voice. As was the eye roll.
I swear that kid sleighs me.
Also, on the night of the horrors in CT, I crawled up into the top bunk with C, loving on him and getting teary. He didn’t seem to know anything was up, so I didn’t offer any information, but I just told him that if he ever had any questions about ANYTHING, that he could ask me and I would always tell him the truth. He kind of nodded. I told him how much I loved him. He nodded. I thought he was looking sad. But then his eyes got wide and he said, “Whoa! I just threw up in my mouth a little bit! Weird!”
So, okay. We’re good? Mkay.
Oh, thank you Lord for my sassy, disgusting, distractable, smarty-pants boy.